


Tell Me What To Swallow

by dovesinthewind



Series: After The Zero Hour [2]
Category: Harry Styles - Fandom
Genre: Bottom Harry, F/F, Face-Sitting, Feminine Harry, Genderfluid Character, Grinding, Humiliation, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-20 19:48:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21062195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dovesinthewind/pseuds/dovesinthewind
Summary: “How are you really?”Instead of answering, Harry noses against her neck, before speaking quietly; “Can I go to your bedroom?”





	Tell Me What To Swallow

**Author's Note:**

> So, I saw a few people on twitter had dug up my Xarry fic and I felt bad for not posting, though I have been so busy this year with exams and moving to uni that I could never finish my writing. I'll try to be more active now I'm settled!
> 
> This had been a wip for a few months, but I finished it today in honour of Harry wearing a dress. I hope it is respectful, as I am writing as a cis person; let me know if not.

There’s a knock at the door just as they’ve finished their dinner. It’s half nine, though still light as the summer sun attempts to set. The sky turns lilac as it gets cooler.

Rowan looks to her girlfriend for a second, who shrugs, before moving their plates to the counter next to the sink and heading to the front door. She’s only dressed scarcely, so she hopes the person on the other side won’t mind.

She undoes the latch and opens the door. Harry is standing on the other side, looking sheepishly at the floor, then looking up and stretching his lips in a wry smile.

“Hi,” he says, “I was lonely.”

Years of friendship means that Harry is frank with Rowan; there isn’t a lot that goes unsaid between them. And Rowan knows that Harry’s chronic loneliness often leads him to places he wouldn’t like to be otherwise, so she’s glad he’s come to her.

Harry steps inside and shuts the door behind him. She goes to take his long white trench coat off him, but he holds it to his chest. She doesn’t ask him about it.

“No worries, we’ve just finished our tea. There’s leftovers if you want?”

“Julia’s round?” He asks, doe eyes widening, drawing a look of innocence. His cheeks are flushed, and Rowan suspects it isn’t from the cool air outside.

“Yeah, it’s okay, though. You’re not interrupting.”

“No, I’m sorry.“ Rowan pushes her knuckles to his cheeks gently, telling him to stop, _it’s really okay_.

She leads him to the living room where Julia’s now sat, scrolling through her phone. She looks up at Harry when he walks in, breaking into a smile, even though she seems surprised – at his unexpected appearance and at just the sight of him. It’s easy to forget that Harry’s quite famous outside of their little bubble.

“Harry, darling,” She says as she gets up to hug him, which makes Harry blush even more, “What a lovely surprise!”

He’s awkward when he apologises again, which Julia is also quick to dismiss. She then makes it her mission to play host and moves into the kitchen to put the kettle on, opening cupboards and collecting mugs loud enough to be heard from the next room.

When Rowan looks to Harry, she sees that he’s taken his coat off finally. Underneath he’s wearing a sheer pink shirt, buttoned to his chest, where the outline of a black bralette is visible. The longest, top portion of his hair is tied into a loose bun. When Rowan looks closely, she can see a faint layer of red stained on his lips.

“Harry,” she starts, sitting next to her, kissing her cheek lightly, which makes her slump a little, “How are you really?”

Instead of answering, Harry noses against her neck, before speaking quietly; “Can I go to your bedroom?”

Rowan sighs, sliding her hand down Harry’s back, slipping under the shirt and touching the warm skin. It’s hard to resist her when she’s like this.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Do you want me there?”

Harry nods an affirmation. She pulls away and skips to the stairs, swinging on the handle and giving Rowan one last mischievous look before jumping up them.

Rowan has a moment to herself, thinking of Harry upstairs, what she wants and how she looks. She heaves up from the sofa and goes to the kitchen where Julia is placing herbal tea bags into three mugs.

“How’s Harry?” she asks without looking up.

“She’s gone upstairs,” Rowan says, joining her at the counter. Julia glances at her briefly, eyebrows slightly raised, “I want you to be there.”

“Jesus,” Julia coughs a little, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Rowan kisses her softly, “Want you to watch us, at least.”

“Well I can’t pass up the opportunity to see you top for once,” Rowan laughs at that, “I’ll be up in five.”

The room is lit with the orange glow from a lamp and a dimming violet light from the rooflight. It’s dark where Harry’s slumped on the floor-level bed. Her legs, donned in a pair of loose black trousers, are crossed and her feet are bare against the wooden floor. She’s taken her hair tie off, so her hair is loose and curly, falling into her face, still tinged pink with embarrassment. She looks up when she sees Rowan approaching.

“I really am sorry. I didn’t know Julia would be here,” Harry says.

“Lay down.” Rowan replies, ignoring her. She takes off her own t-shirt, leaving her in just sweatpants.

Harry does as she’s told, leaning up on her elbows as Rowan straddles her hips. Rowan leans down, kissing Harry’s neck while unbuttoning her pink shirt, revealing more and more pale skin. It’s comfortable between them, despite not having done this for a few months.

“Little slutty, this,” Rowan says, thumbing the material of the shirt as it pools against Harry’s sides.

“Just for you,” Harry giggles and Rowan laughs.

“Well that’s a damn lie!” Rowan says, thumbing along the skin stretched across Harry’s ribs, “Like I haven’t seen you pull plenty of people in this – showing off your tits.”

Harry smirks and tips her head back against the duvet, familiar tingles travelling down her spine at the word. She looks back down at Rowan when she feels her thumbs circle the black lace covering her nipples. Rowan leans down again to nibble Harry’s ear lobe.

“Little exhibitionist,” she says before attaching their mouths. Harry’s mouth is sweet tasting and warm under Rowan’s tongue as she sucks Harry’s, who releases a gentle huff. The wet sounds as they kiss excites them both. Harry’s soft hands find their way to Rowan’s belly, scratching lightly at the cushiony flesh and revelling in the way she gives a little moan.

When they break apart, Rowan moves her head only slightly, so she can see the way Harry’s cheeks are red, like her neck and chest; her skin is hot to the touch.

“Are you gonna fuck me?” Harry asks lowly, words slurring together like honey. Rowan squeezes her chest, pushing the tissue under her hands together to form cleavage, and bending down to mouth at it.

“Yeah,” she replies after a minute, hearing Harry’s breaths roughen, “You can say no to this, but I want Julia here. In the room.”

If Harry had looked bashful before, she looks downright ready to be eaten up by the ground. Her hands twitch where they’re splayed on Rowan’s thighs.

“That’s fine by me, sure,” she stutters quietly, her eye contact a little too intense, like she’s trying too hard to seem unaffected. Rowan looks on suspiciously.

“Are you sure? I’m not arsed if you say no,” she says carefully. Harry is always so eager to please that sometimes she’ll agree to things she doesn’t want to. Harry just nods assuredly. Rowan thinks back to her coyness upon entering the flat this evening, and the way her ears redden just that darker when Julia calls her _darling_ or _lovely_ or even _mate_. And then it clicks:

“You fancy her, don’t you?” Rowan says, feigning outrage.

“No.” Harry whines, squeezing her eyes shut and pouting stupidly. There’s a little bit of tickling from Rowan before Harry admits with a miserable puppy dog face; “Okay. A little.”

Rowan gasps again, delighted. She kisses Harry’s cheek again.

“You fancy my girlfriend. That’s hilarious,” she giggles at the way Harry rolls her eyes.

“Not as much as you,” Harry says, growing restless.

“I should hope not!” Rowan replies, “You’re so easy, aren’t you. Just want it from anyone.”

It’s not true but it makes Harry feel humiliated in a way that heats her up inside. Not like when she fell over when crossing the last hurdle at sports day in Year 5, or when she threw up in front of her crush the first time she drank vodka at fourteen, or when she messed up her solo during the band’s debut performance live on air. This feels good: happy and right. Rowan always gets it right.

“What do you want from tonight?” Rowan asks. That’s another thing she gets right – the balance between dominating and accommodating. It makes Harry’s brain turn to pulp.

“Just wanna get fucked,” she says.

Rowan kisses her again, while she begins to move Harry’s trousers down her legs, before slipping her own leggings down; it’s hard work so their foreheads bump a few times. Rowan’s mouthing at her neck wetly, making Harry pant loudly and cling to her naked back when Julia walks in with a few mugs.

“You two look comfortable,” she says smugly, obviously pleased at the sight of the two of them in only their underwear. Rowan looks to the side to smile at her wildly, while Harry distracts herself by kissing the soft skin that’s in front of her.

After she’s placed the mugs down, Julia joins them on the bed, sitting on her side and stroking Rowan’s back for a minute or two before pressing her lips to her shoulder. Rowan sits up on Harry’s lap, twisting to clutch at her girlfriend’s shoulders and kissing her hard and messy.

As they swallow each other’s mouths, Harry grows fidgety, squeezing the firm thighs under her hands. She sighs at the sight of the two girls above her, making out – it’s so hot to watch but it would be hotter to take part. Finally, Julia breaks apart, looking down at Harry who squirms at her stare, though she’s soon side-tracked when Rowan climbs off the lap under her, and launches herself at her girlfriend again.

They’re on their knees on the bed, swaying like willow trees above the downy material of the bedding. Harry lays back and allows her hands to travel underneath the fabric of her bra, pinching her nipples harshly, trying to distract herself from the agitation she’s feeling from not being the centre of attention.

Julia separates their mouths again, and Harry smiles at the way Rowan hides her face in the crook of her girlfriend’s neck, bashful like Harry; they both feel somewhat more exposed like this, with another person – their tastes and preferences that lay outside of their relationship are laid bare for each other to see.

“Come here,” Julia tells Harry, who immediately obeys, getting up clumsily so she can kneel next to the pair. She’s a couple inches taller than Rowan, but Julia matches her height, which makes it easy for them to embrace each other. Harry is delighted as they kiss, blood pumping in her ears and groin. Hands are everywhere and she can’t tell what belongs to whom.

Without realising at first, Harry grasps the sensation of a wet mouth on her chest, sucking harshly at the skin, surely colouring it purple. Another hand travels from her waist and slips down to her arse. It’s Julia. She cups a handful of supple flesh, squeezing, massaging, and Harry feels herself dampen. The hand slips further across, dipping between her cheeks, tracing the thin strip of mesh to her hole, rubbing over it lightly and insistently. Harry keens and pushes her backside out, wanting more, and at the same, pushes her chest against Rowan’s mouth who tries to push the lace cups of her bra to the side.

The sight of Harry, mewling with a look of desperation on her face makes the two of them encourage Harry to lay down again on the duvet. Her hair spreads against the pillow and Rowan is winded at her beauty. When Harry smiles and looks down, she has a hint of double chin.

When Rowan leans down to kiss over her tummy – the dark tattoos, and the pudge - Julia leaves briefly but Harry is too preoccupied by how Rowan’s tracing her fingers over the edge of her panties to notice. Rowan touches the hardening bulge under the black lace. It makes Harry spread her legs further apart, so Rowan strokes her palms outstretched down her thighs, thumbing where her pelvis dips into her groin. The skin lights up in goose bumps where she touches it.

Just as Harry’s panties have been removed, Julia returns with a collection of objects that she dumps on the floor by the bed. Harry initially wants to close her legs at first, shield herself, even though she’s freshly shaved, but Rowan’s there in the middle of them, looking at Harry carefully.

Harry closes her eyes, faintly recognising the click of a bottle, the slick sound of liquid, and then the touch of fingers on her dick: two together, stroking up and down slowly along the shaft. The fingers dip into the slit, collecting her slick before repeating the action.

Rowan’s preoccupied with the sight below that she just doesn’t hear the sounds of mouths meeting above her; Julia’s got Harry’s jaw in her hand, cupped around her chin, kissing her thoroughly again.

It spurs on Rowan to slip her panties off, and she indulges a quick swipe between her soaked lips, bringing it down to Harry’s dick again, getting it wetter. She pushes Harry’s legs further up to the sides of her chest, and she’s awed at the way they flatten to the level of her torso on the bed. Rowan straddles her, her knees stretching over the middle of Harry’s thighs. She lowers herself down to Harry’s dick, still pressed against her abdomen and begins a lazy grind.

Harry tries to suppress a moan into the open mouth against hers and squeezes the muscles of her own thighs where she holds them against the sides of her chest. Everything is silky soft and sticky between them, Rowan’s folds burning up, encasing Harry’s dick which lays pulsing hotly against her abdomen. Harry has to break away from Julia’s plush mouth, to watch the sweet pink head of her dick appear and disappear rhythmically against Rowan’s clit every time she slides forward.

When Rowan starts to rub herself harshly, Harry and Julia both watch on eagerly, awaiting the full body shudders they get to see every time Rowan orgasms. It happens after just a minute more of grinding, and Harry feels gushes of wetness flood all over her groin and tummy, making her flushed skin glisten.

As Rowan comes down from her delirium, Julia whispers in Harry’s ear, making her shiver, “Gonna ride your face, sweetheart.” Before Harry can even react, her mouth is met with Julia’s pussy, not as wet as Rowan could be, but scorching and smooth. There’s so much for her to suck on, and she huffs in delight, before Julia grinds her clit against her nose, suffocating her. Harry’s closed eyes roll to the back of her head.

She then feels her legs, a little stiff from their position, being moved back together and push against her chest again. Her vision is blocked by the body on top of her so she can’t quite work out what Rowan has planned.

“Thought you were planning to fuck her, darling,” Julia says, voice stoic as she grinds harder against Harry’s face, twisting herself to face her girlfriend.

“Later,” Rowan mumbles, eyes trained on the open pink of Harry’s hole, the dusky mauve around it already slick, presumably from an earlier fingering session, “Wanna taste her pussy.”

Harry is caught between the feeling of the cunt against her tongue, and the tongue rubbing over her own cunt, pressing more insistently with each stroke. She mirrors her own movements with Rowan’s.

“So slutty,” Rowan mumbles, “Y’know she touched herself before she came here, Jules.”

“Fuck,” Julia moans.

“I wonder what she was thinking of – when she had a couple fingers stuffed in her pussy,” Rowan says as she slides two digits inside the waiting gape, “I think it was you, honey. Was thinking of you touching her like this,” She says to Julia.

Harry whimpers pitifully and sucks harder at Julia’s clit, wanting to distract her. “Huh, why?” Julia grunts, the sensations of Harry’s molten mouth finally getting to her.

“Harry has a girl crush on you. Told me,” Rowan grins against the shaven skin of Harry’s inner thigh.

“Is that true, gorgeous?” Julia patronises, staring down into Harry’s eyes who squeezes them shut and whines, “Oh that’s alright. Just keep that mouth busy for me, be a good girl, and we’ll see what we can do for you. Maybe take turns with that pussy after Ro’s finished eating you out, yeah?”

Harry comes a second later when Rowan presses against her prostate, a milky pool of come squirting onto her soft tummy hidden by her thighs. As her mouth goes slack, Julia rubs her clit roughly and grinds down onto Harry’s face before she orgasms with a wheeze.

Harry is a mess when she comes to, with Julia in the bathroom fetching a flannel. She’s blotchy everywhere and is covered slick. A hand fondles her jaw lightly, aching from being open for so long. Rowan sits beside her head, still naked, and sipping a cup of tea, “It’s gone cold,” She whispers. Harry doesn’t reply.

“Was that alright?” She questions worriedly. Harry just turns her body and nods into the crease between her thigh and tummy.

“Good,” Rowan says, scratching her scalp gently as Harry falls asleep.


End file.
